by Vella Day
Elana was the only human at the party who wasn’t a witch, and while she was aware shifters existed and had seen Izzy’s powers, she was basically in the dark about the rest.
He almost chuckled thinking how she’d freak if he shifted in front of her. Of course, he’d never do that to her, but if he filmed it—which he never would—he bet he’d get a billion hits on YouTube.
“There you are.” Elana stepped close.
This was the second time he’d not sensed she was near. He knew why. He’d been so distracted thinking about her that all his other senses had zoned out—even his acute sense of smell. When her delicate rose like scent seeped into him again, his stupid body reacted by growing unwanted hair on his arms and probably his face. Kalan hadn’t pulled his almost shoulder length hair back in a tie, and right now, he probably looked like a bear.
He needed something to focus on other than what her presence was doing to him. If she hadn’t had a drink in her hand, he would have offered her one. Fortunately, he was provided with a distraction when the crowd piled into the living room.
“Are they coming in to open the presents?” he asked. Please say yes.
“Yes, presents first then food.”
“Sounds good.” In all his years of dating, he didn’t remember a more awkward situation. His body was clamoring to be with her, yet his mind was sending out strong warning signals to stay away. Kalan had this impending sense that once he gave into his inner bear he’d never be able to escape.
Move you idiot.
“Let’s find a seat,” he said. Kalan stepped past the chairs and sofa to retrieve his hidden present and placed it with the others on the coffee table.
He’d planned to snag a seat by himself, but when he looked around, Elana was smiling, patting the remaining seat on the sofa. Well, damn.
Chapter Three
‡
“Just stop. It wasn’t a disaster,” Izzy said as she lifted her iced tea to her lips.
Elana sank back on the sofa in her apartment above the store, exhausted from not having slept a wink last night. Izzy was seated across from her in the flowered wingback chair—a hand-me-down from her parents.
Nothing about Izzy’s party had gone according to plan. After sounding rather despondent on the phone, Izzy told her she was coming over to talk her off the ledge. Elana said her situation wasn’t that bad, but she was upset with herself. She’d had the chance to make an impression on Kalan, and she’d blown it.
“Tell me this,” Elana said. “How come every time Kalan is near me, he tries to get away?” Elana enumerated all the times he’d run from her. “When he ran smack into the hospital door after seeing Rye, I thought it was cute, figuring he was upset over his best friend being trapped in a burning building. Then when he’d purchased the arrangement for you, he didn’t hang out and chat. In fact, he moved so fast, he dropped the wolf on his way out the door and bumped his head.” Izzy opened her mouth, but Elana held up her hand. She needed to make sure Izzy understood the extent of the situation. “At your party, he was making one excuse after another why he had to get away from me. I just need to take the hint and move on.”
Izzy set her drink down. “I’m not in his head, but maybe he’s scared.”
Elana cracked up. “Yes, as well he should be. Why my black belt in karate would make any man shake in his boots.” Hell, she hadn’t stepped foot in a gym in her entire life, let alone hold a beginner’s belt in martial arts. She stood. “I need a drink.”
In ten steps, she was in her open floor plan kitchen. Instead of pouring an iced tea for herself, she fixed a glass of wine. So what if it was early afternoon?
When she returned, Izzy had a scowl on her face. “You never drink during the day.”
“I’m upset.”
“He might ask you out. You never know. The party was just last night.”
After taking a long swig, Elana set down her glass, and tilted her head. “Really? Why would he do that? He’s not interested, and I just need to get it into my head that I have to look elsewhere.” She’d tried. Oh, how she’d tried.
Izzy snapped her fingers. “I know. We’ll ask Ophelia to put a love spell on Kalan.”
Elana held up her palms. “No offense to your kind, but while I know you have magic because I’ve witnessed it, I’m not so much a believer in love spells.”
“Don’t be such a skeptic. They can work.”
“Is that what you used with Rye?”
Her friend glanced to the side. “No. He seemed to recognize that I was his mate from the get go.”
She’d heard that shifters had this intense and almost violent longing to be with their fated mate. Too bad human men weren’t the same. “So basically you’re suggesting I try to fool Kalan into falling for me?”
“It’s not fooling. He’ll pursue you, recognize what a catch you are, and then the two of you will fall madly in love on your own.”
“If you say so, but remember the spell that crazy witch put on you only lasted forty-eight hours. Is that all the time I’d have to convince him I’m wonderful?” Elana disliked sarcasm, but at the moment, she couldn’t help it.
Izzy leaned back and shot her a knowing glance. “It’s more like a week to ten days for a love spell. Listen, if you don’t act like you’re worth fighting for, why should he believe you are?”
Even though she was on the second floor, a motorcycle roared up the street below and rattled her windows. “What are you saying?”
“You need to have faith that if you and Kalan are meant to be together, things will work out. Whether or not it does, is a different matter. It’s all about attitude. Men can sense when you’re desperate.”
She wasn’t desperate. Or was she? “I’ve never claimed we are each other’s destiny. I just want one date.”
Izzy tossed her a knowing smile. “One date, huh? Or what he has to offer in bed?”
“I’ll need the date first before I can land him in bed.”
“Then ask him out. This is the twenty-first century. Women do it all the time.”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure I could handle it if he said no. It might be best if I had a spell to convince me that Kalan is not the one. Let’s be honest. Men like Kalan don’t go out with someone like me.”
Izzy’s lips couldn’t have puckered any more than if she’d eaten a lemon. “If that’s what you truly believe, I’m sure I can arrange a spell to eliminate your desire for Kalan Murdoch from your brain. That kind of spell is definitely in Ophelia’s wheel house.”
Izzy was suddenly being very cooperative, and the look of sincerity implied she’d do her best. “Thank you. I need to focus on my work and not on having a record number of climaxes.”
“To be clear, you want to erase him from your head since you know it can’t be any more than that, right?”
“Is that what I said? Maybe. Kind of. Aw, hell, I don’t know what I want.” Besides Kalan.
Izzy thankfully laughed. “I can see that. Before you dismiss it altogether, there’s a lot to be said for hot sex.”
“Uh-huh.” The discussion needed to end now. “When can you arrange for this dismissal spell?”
Izzy stood. “I’ll try to find Ophelia now. If she can do it this afternoon, are you willing to meet me at my old house?”
“Absolutely.”
They hugged goodbye. As soon as Izzy left, Elana headed downstairs to her closed flower shop. The delightful scent of the blooming flowers along with the cheery balloons and holiday cards on the wall rack brought her joy. She couldn’t imagine doing anything else other than being a florist.
Determined to keep busy until Izzy contacted her, Elana checked her delivery schedule and what arrangements she had to make and for when. She was in the middle of placing some white roses in a vase when her cell rang. It was Izzy.
“Hello, my spell binding witch.” She smiled and leaned against the counter.
“Ophelia said she can meet us in fifteen minutes. Can you be ready?”
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“You bet.”
As soon as she disconnected, Elana returned the flowers to the cooler. The excitement at soon banishing Kalan Murdoch from her mind wasn’t zinging through her body as she expected. He’d been in her dreams each night for years. She’d miss him, but unfulfilled wishes were a drag.
Determined not to waffle any more than she already had, she grabbed her purse and left after locking up. Once she arrived at Izzy’s old house, both her friend and some old woman in a long black dress she’d never seen before were waiting for her at the end of the path leading to Izzy’s front door.
Elana parked, and kept her gaze on Ophelia. It was hard to believe the woman could even remember a spell at her age let alone do a successful one. Given her long white hair and skin thinner than onion paper, she had to be close to ninety.
When Elana slipped out of her Subaru, the sun was out in full force and the wind was sufficient enough to blow pollen around to perfume the air. Elana inhaled and the tension in her shoulders released.
As she neared, Ophelia seemed to look right through her. The small smile on her lips then disappeared. “Elana, something is troubling you.”
Many things were, but the biggest was her obsession with Kalan. “I can’t seem to get a particular man out of my head and it’s affecting my sleep. It’s clear he doesn’t want to be with me, and I want to block his image, if that’s possible.”
“Most definitely, but I was sensing something else.”
Her pulse soared. “What do you mean?”
She waved a hand. “It’s nothing. Now tell me this man’s name.”
Surely, Izzy had told it to her. The old lady was losing it. “His name is Kalan Murdoch.” Elana swore the old woman’s eyes sparkled. Certainly, she wasn’t under his sexual spell. Good Lord, the woman probably hadn’t had sex in thirty years. “Do you know him?”
“Yes, my dear. I’m aware of most of our residents.”
As much as Elana wanted to learn what the witch thought of him, she was here to banish him from her thoughts, not enhance them. “So what do I have to do?” Cut up flowers and mash them? Dunk my head in a bowl of water for thirty seconds? Clearly, spells were not her thing.
Ophelia smiled, and Elana could see the woman had been a beauty in her day. “Give me your hands.”
That seemed simple enough. Ophelia closed her eyes and when her body shook, Elana worried the woman might be having a stroke. She then began to chant, though Elana had no idea what she was saying. The pressure on her fingers increased, as if the witch was squeezing out Kalan’s image. The stronger her grip, the freer Elana began to feel.
Ophelia suddenly let go and smiled. “The next time you see your man, things will have changed. With him not clouding your thoughts, your true beauty will shine through.”
“Thank you.” Though she wasn’t quite sure what that meant.
Before she could pay the woman or ask her more questions, the witch in the long gauzy dress spun around and disappeared behind the house, her hair flowing in the wind. Elana glanced at Izzy.
Her friend rushed up to her. “Do you feel any different?”
“I don’t know, but I think I’m lighter.”
“That’s because you no longer have to worry about Kalan.”
Elana should be thrilled, but because he had been part of her life for so long, she missed him already. “I didn’t have the chance to pay her.”
Izzy smiled. “Witches don’t accept payment. At least the Wendayan witches don’t.”
“Okay, then. I guess that’s done.” She clenched her fists. “Did she say how long this spell lasts? I’d hate to think I was cured and then have a relapse.”
Izzy wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I didn’t ask her, but I’m thinking it was a complete exorcism.”
Her chest sunk in. “Good.” Izzy probably wanted to get back to Rye. “Thank you for finding Ophelia.”
“Anytime.”
*
Brian Stanley was on a mission. He needed to find his parents and his baby sister, though he suspected she didn’t even know he existed. More than likely, she’d been as emotionally abused as he’d been, but that didn’t mean she would be an ally.
He might have been born in Silver Lake, but he wasn’t quite sure of the family’s address, just that the estate was on the west side of town. After twenty-seven years, things had changed. That was why he’d gone to a bar, hoping someone could help him. The outside of McKinnon’s Pub and Pool looked clean and in good repair, which meant Brian probably wouldn’t end up in some stupid ass brawl or in a ditch out back.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked. The man’s nametag read Finn, and he looked like an affable young man.
“A shot of whiskey, Finn.” Brian was still on his meds and probably shouldn’t drink, but he’d dreamed of this moment for many years—or maybe it was more that he’d dreaded it.
“Here ya go. Want to run a tab?” Finn had given him a healthy dose of scotch. No skimping from this fellow.
It was tempting, but he had a lot to learn and didn’t need his brain muddled. “No thanks.”
Extracting his wallet, he slapped a twenty on the counter. While he had a credit card, flashing his name around wouldn’t have been smart, since he had no idea how well known his parents were. Given what he’d read up on them, they were quite wealthy, implying many in this small town might know them. Brian could certainly use a family handout right about now, but that wasn’t why he’d come.
Finn slipped the money off the counter and returned with change. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“There is one thing.” His damn hand shook. Stupid meds. While he’d rehearsed what he planned to ask for years, now that he was back in town, he was losing his courage. “I’m just passing through, but I once did business with a Richard Stanley. I believe he said he was from Silver Lake.”
“He is, but I’ve never met the man. He lives in the big white house on the corner of Langston and Pine.”
Brian didn’t want to act too knowledgeable about the area. “Where’s that?”
“If you head west on Maple and hang a left on Pine View, you’ll hit Pine Avenue. Can’t miss the house.”
“Thanks.” He remembered there were two streets named Pine. While he didn’t have the street number, he’d ask the cab driver to drop him off nearby. He’d find it. Brian tossed back his drink then retrieved all but a few bucks for a tip. As if he had all the time in the world, he slid off his stool and sauntered out.
Despite all the years of therapy, he wasn’t sure how he wanted to handle meeting the folks. To be honest, he doubted they’d even recognize their son. The last time he’d seen them he was eight. His hair had been lighter and he’d been skinny. Now he could stand to shed a few pounds.
According to the mental hospital, his parents had called to check on his progress, but they’d never driven the six hours north to actually see him. All they’d wanted to know was if he was still killing animals and setting fires. The answer had been no, though recently, he’d been tempted. His abandonment issues were what had caused him to lash out, but apparently, they hadn’t cared to read the telltale signs.
Fifteen minutes after calling a cab, his ride arrived. Instead of having the man drive him to the exact corner, he asked to be dropped off about a half mile away. He wasn’t sure why he needed the precaution, but his common sense had clicked in.
By the time he arrived at the house where he’d grown up, it was too dark to tell the condition of the place, but the trees sure as hell were taller. Tonight, his plan was merely to case the joint. The confrontation would happen later when he was more emotionally prepared for the fallout.
The road was fairly secluded and the homes were spaced far apart, which made it perfect for surveillance. The lights were on in the house, but it didn’t mean his parents were home. They could be having dinner out. From what he’d been able to tell, they’d been out of the country for some time, but from his mom’s Facebook pos
ts to her friends, they’d recently returned. Wouldn’t she freak out if she knew he’d been pretending to be Harriett Longworth, an old time high school friend, in order to be accepted as her friend? If his mother had really cared about Harriett, she’d have known her old buddy was dead.
He ducked down the driveway then walked behind the line of trees, not wanting the lights from the house to cast any shadows. Close to the halfway point, headlights turned down the driveway. His heart racing, he plastered his back against a tree. When the car drove by, he dared to check it out. It was light colored and small, but he was unable to be certain of the model. He’d get a closer look once the occupant was inside.
A rather short woman emerged from the car, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Certainly wasn’t his mother. She was tall—or at least she had been to an eight year old. At this hour, it wouldn’t be any of the staff. It might be a lawyer or even their accountant, summoned to their home.
When the woman rang the bell, he deleted his mom from the list. Needing to see and hear better, he crept closer to the house. The leaves had yet to fall, making it relatively easy to move about quietly. As long as his parents didn’t have an outside dog, he’d be safe.
The woman was ushered inside and he slid to the side of the house where he could peek in the window that was part of the dining room but which opened into the living room. When he looked in, his stomach churned, his head swam, and bile rose up his throat. His parents were in the hallway speaking with the woman who looked rather young. As if she’d seen him, she turned her head in his general direction, and at that very moment, he was positive that he was looking into the face of his baby sister.
Chapter Four
‡
Kalan took his usual seat on the lounge chair at Rye’s house, keeping an eye on Izzy baking cookies a few feet away. “Those chocolate chip you making?” Kalan asked, his stomach grumbling. They were his favorites.
“Yup. They smell good, don’t they?” She smiled, but he refused to be sentimental at the domestic scene.
